


An Overheard Conversation

by orphan_account



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 17:58:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18254966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Laurel Lance and Thea Queen, commiserating over boy troubles, overhear a certain conversation between Moira and Oliver, during which dark secrets are exposed and sending them down a different path than the one they might have traveled.Posterity fic from my Revenant-Commander days.





	An Overheard Conversation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maquis_Leader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maquis_Leader/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don’t own Arrow.
> 
> A/N: I wrote this ages ago when I was writing under Revenant-Commander on FFN. Thought I’d post it here, for posterity’s sake. It popped into my head after a convo on the KSite forums back when I frequented it. I’ve made a few changes (fixing grammar and/or spelling errors and the like) but its pretty much what I originally posted.

 

Despite having been assured by Oliver that everything was fine, and something had come up at the club earlier, Laurel felt concerned that she and Oliver’s brief reunion would be defused by their tendency to pull away from one another for some reason. Not wanting this to happen after having fought against her own feelings for a year, she had come out to the Queen Mansion only to find Oliver had not yet returned, and Thea was having boy troubles of her own. The two were in mid-discussion when they heard footsteps in the hallway. Going to the door, they saw Oliver, jacket in hand, heading for Moira’s room, moving a bit stiffly.

Thea looked over to Laurel, who was worrying her lower lip. “Come on, let’s see what’s going on,” she said quietly, and tugged on the older girl’s upper arm. Laurel didn’t fight it, mainly because she was curious what was going on herself. It didn’t take a genius to see that ever since Walter’s disappearance, and even more so since his recovery, Oliver had been a bit stiff around his mother. The only question was _why_. Maybe they could finally find out the reason, and especially why he had tried to convince them Walter was dead when in fact he had been held in the slums in Bludhaven.

Stopping just outside Moira’s bedroom door, they could see Oliver toss his coat to the side. “No more lies, Mom,” he said as he did this. “The Undertaking. We need to stop it.” Laurel and Thea looked at one another, concerned. Oliver sounded almost. . . defeated.

Moira’s response served to further confuse the two young women listening in. “Everything I have said or done has been to protect you and your sister.”

“What about all those people in the Glades?” Oliver asked, his voice breaking slightly. Laurel straightened at this and felt Thea stiffen beside her, no doubt worrying about her friend Roy.

“I’m not their mother,” Moira said.

“I spoke to Malcolm,” Oliver told her softly. Laurel and Thea had to strain to hear this, and both were shocked to the core by what followed.

“What?” Moira asked, fear evident in her voice. Neither Laurel nor Thea could ever remember hearing Moira speak with such fear. That this was aimed at the idea of Oliver talking to Malcolm Merlyn, an old friend of the Queen family, made it even worse. But the blow had yet to land. “He could’ve killed you,” Moira told Oliver brokenly, unaware that Laurel had been forced to keep a hand over Thea’s mouth to keep the young girl from shouting in alarm at this accusation. Laurel’s remaining hand went to her own mouth at Moira’s next sentence. “He killed your father.” Thea slumped bonelessly into Laurel’s arms, unable to contain the sob that escaped her. Knowing they had been heard by the sudden drop in conversation, Laurel entered the room, seeing Oliver and Moira staring at her and Thea in horror.

Oliver, for his part, rallied himself. He didn’t have time to come up with a cover, didn’t have time much at all. Malcolm likely already knew he had escaped. He turned to his mother and said, “No, Mom. Dad made it off the _Gambit_ with me. We both made it to the life raft. We drifted for days. In the end, there wasn’t enough food and water for both of us. So, he killed himself.” Oliver had intended to be blunter to get through to his mother, but he was not going to give his sister nightmares about what their father had done.

Moira turned, only to be confronted by her distraught daughter in the arms of Laurel Lance. Oliver forced her attention back to her when he spoke. “He sacrificed himself for me,” he said, his eyes (the eyes of his father) boring into her from across the room, paralyzing her with a gaze she had only seen once before, when she had been confronted by the Hood in her office so many months ago. His voice shook with emotion as he continued, “Do you really think that I could go on living, knowing you sacrificed _thousands more_ in _my name_?” he had closed the distance between them, and even as Laurel let loose a sob, Oliver gripped his mother by her upper arms and said, “you have to help me stop Malcolm. . . we need to know _where_ the device is!” The way Oliver spoke changed, and Laurel looked up, realizing where she had heard those tones before. Even though it had been heavily modulated, it was the voice fo the man who had been there for her, for her family countless times already. . . The Hood. Oliver was the Hood.

Before Laurel could say anything to confirm her belief, Moira’s phone rang. She pulled away from Oliver to answer it. Her voice was steady a few moments later as she said, “Malcolm? How can I help you?” She listened to what the man said, even as she was under the gaze of three people, all of whom held a distinct hatred for the man on the other end of the phone in their gaze. “I see. Thank you for calling,” she said softly, hanging up and turning to Oliver. “Malcolm’s accelerated his timetable,” she said softly. “The Undertaking… it’s happening tonight.”

Oliver turned and headed for the door. “Where are you going?” Moira asked in dread.

Oliver turned, knowing that his expression, the one he wore whenever he put on the Hood, was fully-visible to every single one of the women that Slade had threatened before Oliver killed him. “Somebody in this family needs to put an end to this,” he said, not bothering to hide his true self. “Whatever the cost.” He turned to go once more.

“Ollie!” he heard and turned to see Laurel coming to him. She paused, looked into his eyes, and then reached up and kissed him fiercely. He returned it just as fiercely. When they pulled out of the embrace, she met his gaze and said, “You go, and you kill that son of a bitch like you wanted to do to that guard, and to Vanch.”

“Consider it done,” he said coolly, and left, leaving a Laurel Lance who had truly had her eyes opened to what kind of war was being fought outside the law all these years, a mother who was worried but considering challenging the very man who had ruined their lives, and a little sister who had just seen her brother for who he really was: a man of conviction who would not let anything stop him.

Tommy Merlyn joined them later that night, Moira having been taken away for her part in the Undertaking and Thea and Laurel having retrieved Roy Harper from the Glades while it was still daylight out. The three sat in the foyer, watching the news unfold. Half the Glades had been wiped from existence by Tommy’s father. Tommy was pouring a glass of scotch, trying to unburden himself of the guilt of having his father’s name, when Oliver finally returned. He was limping, and a spot of blood could be seen soaking through his shirt. His ‘bodyguard’ was there as well as the girl Laurel had met setting up his ‘internet’, which she had thought was an innuendo for them having sex but which she now realized was a very awkward attempt at the cover story.

“I thought you were going to stop it,” Laurel said brokenly.

“Merlyn had _two_ earthquake generators,” Oliver said. “Your dad shut down one of them, Laurel… the other one wrecked half the Glades. Laurel… CNRI is gone.”

Laurel closed her eyes, even as Tommy moaned at the fact that if Laurel hadn’t been here, if she had been her normal stubborn self, she could be dead right now.

Oliver looked to Tommy. “I’m sorry, Tommy,” he told him.

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

“He threatened Mom and Thea,” Oliver said quietly. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Tommy sighed. “No, I suppose not…”

The group all took seats in the main room, drinking to get past aches and pains. During this time, Oliver found himself approached by Roy Harper. Oliver locked eyes with the younger man, studying him, evaluating him. “You’re tenacious, have a temper, and need a lot more skill than you’ve got before you can even think of helping me,” Oliver told the younger man. “But the question is… are you willing to learn?”

“If you’re willing to teach,” Roy said.

Diggle looked over at them warily, remembering the last time Oliver had a teaching gig. But he was the boss.

Oliver looked around the room. He hadn’t expected his secret to get out this way, but he knew there was no going back. He stood, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “We’ve suffered a great loss as a city tonight,” Oliver said softly. “We need time and distance. But things like the Undertaking are always going to be a threat, for as long as people like Malcolm Merlyn and like my father see no wrong in stepping on others to make their fortune. Men like Adam Hunt, like Marcus Redman, like Cyrus Vanch… men like the Count. They all profit from the suffering of others. It stops now.”

As he looked at his friends and family, he saw the same resolve he had in their eyes and nodded. His secret might have been exposed a bit more than he had wanted, but the people who knew it seemed ready to support his crusade.

Outside the Queen Mansion, a figure watched the somewhat muted celebrations. “Celebrate your victory for now, Oliver,” Malcolm Merlyn said, eyes glaring at the vigilante that had ruined his plans. “We’ll meet again soon enough.”

In another part of the world, a one-eyed man watched the events playing out in Starling City and smirked. Picking up a phone and selecting a specific contact, he asked, “Are you seeing this?” After his contact confirmed they were seeing what was going on, Slade Wilson said, “The time has come to put our plan into motion, Ms. Rochev. We will take away everyone and everything Oliver Queen holds dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was an idea that I felt had story potential at the time I wrote it but for now it’ll just be a one-shot.


End file.
